


Tequila

by TheOnlyCeeCeeJ



Series: The Marvel Jukebox [3]
Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Based on a Dan & Shay Song, College Student Peter Parker, Drinking to Cope, Frat Boy Brock Rumlow, Jock Brock Rumlow, M/M, Mentioned Peter Parker/Tony Stark, Porn With Plot, Post-Break Up, Rape/Non-con Elements, Underage Drinking, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, frat party
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-07
Updated: 2020-07-07
Packaged: 2021-03-05 01:07:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,970
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25125940
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheOnlyCeeCeeJ/pseuds/TheOnlyCeeCeeJ
Summary: Peter decides a frat party is the best place to get over his break up. What happens when he catches the attention of football star, Brock Rumlow? Alcohol and bad decisions. That's what.“I… Um… I can’t do this, I’m sorry.”Peter turned and opened the door but Brock’s hand shot out and slammed the door, boxing Peter in. “I don’t think so,” he said, slamming Peter into the door.
Relationships: Peter Parker/Brock Rumlow
Series: The Marvel Jukebox [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2162547
Comments: 14
Kudos: 42





	Tequila

**Author's Note:**

> Ok, so basically this is for all the amazing people in the Discord Server I find myself lurking in day in and day out! Thank you guys for pushing me and inspiring me... I love you all!
> 
> A huge thank you to [Fyreyantics](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fyreyantics/pseuds/fyreyantics) for stepping up and being my lovely Beta for this! 
> 
> Only someone with a mind as twisted as mine can listen to a beautiful romantic country song and come up with Break Up Non-Con. I honestly don't understand my mind sometimes! This is very loosely based on [Tequila by Dan + Shay.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9j8afmT-bLM) Honestly, I love this song and GOD it could have made such a sweet little story but I didn't write that!

Peter threw his phone down on the other end of his bed, dropping his head into his hands. Tears stung behind his eyes as his mind ran over the conversation he had just had. It was Tony. His boyfriend, Tony. Well,  _ ex- _ boyfriend now. Tony Stark, trust fund kid, genius, college heartthrob had suddenly decided that Peter Parker, the poor kid from Queens, wasn’t worth his time. 

They had been dating for about six months. Tony had been amazingly caring, proud to show Peter off on his arm, walked Peter to his classes whenever he could, sat with him in the library whenever Peter wanted to work on his assignments, even if he didn’t have anything to work on. To Peter, it was all perfect. 

Peter even gave Tony his virginity. It was perfect, romantic and it meant everything to Peter. It obviously didn’t mean as much to Tony as he went on to tell Peter he was too vanilla and Tony was bored. Peter tried to plead with Tony. He offered the man everything he had, offered to change, to be anything the man wanted, but it wasn’t enough. Tony was done. He’d made his decision and it was final. 

Peter curled up on his bed and choked back a sob. He did everything he could to hold back the tears. He was hurt, but he refused to let himself cry over someone who wasn’t crying for him. He wanted to stay strong. He could move on, he knew he could, but it was difficult to truly believe that when he thought back to all of his happy times with Tony. 

He needed to take his mind off of it all. He picked up his phone and tried to call Ned, but got no answer. He tried MJ next and her phone didn’t even connect. He thought about calling May, but he couldn’t bring himself to tell her. While he knew she meant well, she would just make him feel worse by babying him and his feelings. No, he couldn’t call May. Not tonight, while it was still so raw. He heard some cheering and whooping outside and he looked out the window, seeing a group of people carrying a keg across campus. 

_ That’ll do it, _ Peter thought. A party was the best way to get over Tony, even if he was just able to forget for the night. Even better was that he knew Tony was out of town with his father on a business trip. Peter grabbed his towel and toiletries and headed for a quick shower. He returned to his room and frowned into his wardrobe. He didn’t really have anything that he thought was nice enough to wear to a party. He finally settled on a pair of clean skinny jeans and a black t-shirt before grabbing his wallet, phone and keys, and leaving his dorm. 

He spotted a few groups of people headed in the same direction, so he decided to follow. When he passed the notice board, he saw that it was covered in Kappa Sigma posters. That must have been where the party was being held. Peter wasn’t really the frat party type - he had accompanied Tony to a couple of the parties at Zeta Phi and Lamda Chi Alpha - but he knew the Kappa Sigma house wasn’t too far away.

As he neared the building, he could hear the loud thump of music and drunk people yelling. The party was in full swing. Peter headed up the steps, climbing over a few people, and through the door. The room was so full, Peter couldn’t see where one person ended and another began. He looked straight ahead and saw people coming out of the kitchen with cups and trays of shots, and knew that was where he needed to go. 

He worked his way slowly through the crowd, tripping over a few feet and bumping into more people than necessary. He grabbed shots from the trays as they passed, knocking back as many as he could. They were something sweet, so it didn’t bother him too much. If there was one certainty in his mind for tonight, it was that he was going to be getting as drunk as possible. 

Peter stumbled through the door of the kitchen and tripped over his own feet straight into a solid chest. Strong arms wrapped around his waist and steadied him on his feet. 

“Woah there, kid,” the deep voice rumbled. “Has someone had a little too much to drink?”

“Oh, um… No I… I just got here. I… Thank you,” Peter stuttered. 

He looked up and his eyes widened when he realised just  _ who _ he had bumped into. Brock Rulmow; Senior, Star of the College Football Team and shoo-in to be scouted. Peter had been bullied into attending a couple of the games with some people from his class. He didn’t know much about football, but he did know that the fate of the team basically rested on Brock’s shoulders. 

Peter found himself staring at Brock for way longer than what was acceptable. His hair stuck out in all different directions, but in the most gorgeous way. His Kappa Sigma t-shirt looked like it was painted on, stretching over his muscles. While Peter wasn’t particularly small, Brock was incredibly tall and broad, Peter was craning his neck to look up at him. 

Brock smiled down at the smaller man. “Well, how about we get you a drink.”

Peter blushed and nodded, not trusting his voice as Brock threw his arm over his shoulder. They walked together to the makeshift bar and Peter’s eyes traveled over the labels of all of the bottles. “Um…”

“So what are you having? We’ve got bottled beer, beer in a can, beer from the keg, vodka shots, jelly shots, tequila. Oh, I think we have some boxed wine hidden somewhere…” Brock said, leaning over the bar a little, exposing just a little bit of skin.

“Um… beer’s cool,” Peter muttered. 

Brock filled a plastic cup from the keg and held it out, but as Peter went to take it, Brock held it out of arms reach. “I’m not letting you have this without finding out your name,” he winked. 

Peter dropped his eyes nervously. “Peter. Peter Parker.” 

“Brock Rumlow,” he introduced as if Peter didn’t know. “So, Peter Parker. What brings you to a Kappa Sigma party?”

“Oh, I just wanted a good night out.”

“Hmm… So you got friends waiting for you somewhere around here?” Brock asked, gesturing to the crowd.

“Uh… no. I… God I must sound like such a loser…” Peter stuttered out. “I’m… I’m here alone.”

Brock looked Peter up and down like a predator sizing up his prey. Peter kinda wished he could just disappear into the crowd. The eyes on him made him feel hot and a little uncomfortable. 

Brock slung his arm around Peter’s shoulder and squeezed him close. “Well, I guess you’re not alone anymore.” Brock laid out a row of shot glasses, pouring a variety of liquids into them. “You think you can keep up with this old frat boy?” he smiled, the playful challenge lingering between them. 

Peter knew he probably shouldn’t go too crazy, and drinking with a bunch of frat boys was probably not the best idea, but what better way to get completely and utterly wasted?! “I’ll give it a good go,” Peter said, knocking back the first shot. 

Brock grinned and held up his in a toast before the two of them finished off the entire line. “Grab your beer and follow me,” Brock said, giving Peter enough time to grab his beer before he was dragged off by the hand. “Lemme introduce you to some people.”

They headed out to the back yard. The crowd seemed to part for them and Peter got his first feel of what it was like to really be ‘popular’. Sure, he-who-must-not-be-named was popular, but this was another level. Brock introduced him to the entire football team, who initially gave him some sceptical looks, but one glare from Brock tamed them and they seemed to welcome him. 

Brock kept Peter by his side the entire night, either his arm was around Peter’s shoulders, or they were hand in hand. He made sure that Peter was included in all conversations that they were dragged into, and made sure that Peter’s cup was never empty. After a while, Peter had no clue what he was drinking, and while something in his mind was telling him that he was being irresponsible, he was enjoying himself. He was smiling and laughing. A lot better than he was a few hours ago. 

Soon enough, the room started spinning slightly and Brock’s touches scorched his skin. Peter found himself in the main room, wrapped up in Brock Rumlow, the older man’s lips attached to his neck. He felt alive, he felt wanted, he felt something other than heartbroken. Peter let Brock’s movements guide his body, his back pressed against the man’s front, hips swaying from side to side. Brock’s hands were large and strong on his waist, creeping under his t-shirt purposefully, caressing his soft skin.

Peter gasped as he felt Brock’s teeth nip at his pulse point, his tongue soothing it moments later. Peter was lost in a haze of alcohol and sensation - they were packed in with so many people - but Peter could only focus on Brock.

“How about we find somewhere a little more private,” Brock spoke into Peter’s ear.

Peter nodded and turned to face Brock, only stumbling slightly. “Lead the way,” he grinned, the alcohol and attention making him unusually confident. 

Brock took Peter's hand and pulled him through the crowd towards the stairs. Brock let Peter go first, stopping him halfway up and turning him around so that Peter, a step up, was closer to his own much taller height. Peter ran his hands through Brock’s hair and settled at the back of his neck. Brock took this as an invitation to lean in and kiss Peter’s neck. 

Brock smiled against the skin as he heard Peter’s gasp. He licked a stripe up Peter’s throat, feeling the kid’s pulse quicken at his touch. People started shouting that they were holding up the stairs, making Peter pull away, hiding his red face in Brock’s chest.

“Let’s go, otherwise the entire party will be getting a show,” Brock forewarned, gripping Peter’s ass roughly. “I’m about three seconds from ripping your clothes off.”

Peter groaned and let himself be tugged up the stairs by Brock, who barged past the crowd they had caused, marching straight to his bedroom. Brock’s room was right at the end of the hall and whenever they held a party, he kept it locked so that it was always ready if he needed it, which he always did. He braced himself around Peter as he unlocked the door, quickly pocketing his keys. 

As soon as the door was closed, Brock gripped the back of Peter’s thighs and lifted him, pressing him against the door. Peter wrapped his legs around Brock’s waist and moaned when their crotches rubbed together. Brock took advantage of the slightly open mouth and finally pressed his lips to Peter’s, swallowing the end of his moan.

Brock’s tongue was in Peter’s mouth, licking every part that it could touch. Peter groaned, allowing his tongue to dance with Brock’s. On top of the overwhelming amount of beer that Peter had put away, tequila melded in. Brock had been downing shots of it all night, Peter remembered. The minute he realised, memories came flashing back. Memories of Tony. 

Tony had taken Peter to Colorado at Christmas; They had been together for a couple of months and Tony had decided that a long weekend of skiing at his parents’ lodge was the perfect Christmas present.  _ It was! _ Really, they only spent one day on the slopes, Tony laughing every time Peter fell over, but being there to pick him up and help him with his technique. The rest of their time was spent in the lodge curled up by the fire just enjoying the peace and quiet. 

There was a certain moment of that weekend that sprung to mind. Tony had decided to crack out a bottle of tequila, and they played drinking games to learn more about each other. They ended up polishing off the bottle, at some point they were screaming along with Tony’s favourite classic rock playlist, before Tony fucked him into the bear-skin rug and he told Peter he loved him for the first time.

Brock’s teeth nipped at Peter’s bottom lip, bringing Peter’s mind back to the present. This didn’t feel right. Peter pulled back from the kiss and put his hands on Brock’s shoulders. Brock took the hint and released Peter’s thighs, easing him back to the floor.

“Everything alright?” Brock asked.

“No, I mean yeah… Yeah I… I think I should go,” Peter stuttered. “I… Um… I can’t do this, I’m sorry.”

Peter turned and opened the door but Brock’s hand shot out and slammed the door, boxing Peter in. “I don’t think so,” he said, slamming Peter into the door. He pressed Peter’s cheek into the door and held him there, leaning down to Peter’s ear. “You think you can throw yourself at me all night and then leave me hanging,” he growled. 

Tears sprung in Peter’s eyes. “I’m… I’m sorry, I… I didn’t mean to, I’m really sorry, just… just please let me go.”

“Hmm… I don’t think I will.” 

Brock released Peter’s head and stepped back. Peter turned around slowly and he trembled, seeing the predatory look in Brock’s eyes. Brock grabbed Peter by the arm and dragged him across the room, throwing him on the bed. Peter scrambled back into the corner and wrapped his arms around his knees, trying to make himself as small as possible. 

He watched through tears as Brock turned and locked the door. 

“I don’t think you understand the gravity of this situation, Peter,” Brock began, slowly stalking back towards Peter. “I went through a lot of effort tonight for you. Introduced you to people, you were  _ popular _ tonight. You had fun, didn’t you?” Brock paused and stared at the shaking boy in the corner. “Didn’t you!?” he yelled.

Peter jumped, pressing himself further into the wall. “Ye… Yes,” he croaked.

“Good,” Brock nodded. “So why were you trying to leave? You were practically begging for it, grinding that sweet little ass all over me like a little slut. I’m surprised you didn’t just drop to your knees in front of everyone.”

“I… I…” 

“That’s what you are, aren’t you. A slut. A cock tease…”

“No! I… I really didn’t mean to… I  _ did _ want it, really, I just…”

Peter yelped as Brock grabbed his ankles, pulling him down the bed. Peter’s head smacked against the wall as he flopped down and he felt his vision swim slightly. Peter tried to kick his legs at Brock, but the man was too strong, gripping his ankles tight and holding him down. 

“I like a bit of fight, Parker,” Brock laughed, “but you need to understand that this is gonna happen whether you kick and scream or not.” 

Peter’s tears fell from his eyes and he choked back a sob, trying to fight against Brock’s strength - not that it made any difference. Brock leaned over him smiling, watching Peter struggle. The look in his eyes told Peter that he was enjoying it. Brock was probably getting off on it. Peter could see the outline of Brock’s cock through his jeans. 

Peter started shouting for help, trying to thrash about as much as he could, hoping that eventually Brock would give up and let him go. Surely someone would hear his cries and try and help him out. Yes, the music downstairs was loud and everyone was drunk, but Peter could only hope. 

After a few minutes, Peter’s muscles started to tire. With the alcohol in his system, he didn’t have much more in him to continue. Brock continued watching, letting out a small chuckle every time Peter put in a particularly valiant effort at escape. 

Eventually, Peter stopped, chest heaving from the effort. He closed his eyes let the crying take over, sobs coming freely, shaking his entire body. As soon as he felt Peter give up, Brock released his ankles and leaned over, wiping the tears from Peter’s cheeks.

“Good boy. At least you’ve accepted it,” he crooned. “I promise I’ll make you feel good.”

Brock leaned forward and Peter took his moment, raising his knee to Brock’s crotch and pushing him off. Peter scrambled across the room, heading for the door. As he fumbled with the lock, Brock grabbed his ankle and yanked him to the ground.

“Where the fuck do you think you’re going, slut?” Brock growled.

Brock pulled Peter back across the floor. Peter’s hands fought for anything to hold onto but it was useless. Brock picked Peter up and stood him in front of the bed, gripping his throat tight. Peter shook as he saw the fury in Brock’s eyes. 

“Please… Please just let me go, I…” he wheezed, his oxygen being cut off.

Brock let go of Peter’s throat and cut his whining off with a backhand to the face, sending Peter sprawling across the bed. “You made a big mistake there, Parker. I was gonna be gentle with you, but you definitely just changed my mind.” 

Peter’s head was pounding, both from the alcohol and the force of the hit. His limbs felt heavy, so he just lay there, crying. “Tony,” he whimpered quietly, but not quietly enough.

“Tony? Who the fuck’s Tony?” Brock paused as realization hit. “Stark? You’re Stark’s little bit? Oh, this is  _ perfect _ . Where’s your little boyfriend now? What would rich boy think about his bitch offering it out for the whole football team?”

Peter let out a deep sob, shaking his head.

“Ohhhh, so that’s it. Stark dumps you so you go out for a rebound fuck?” Brock ripped his shirt over his head and tossed it across the room. He pulled Peter back so that he was bent over the edge of the bed and leaned over Peter’s back, making sure Peter could feel his hard cock on his ass. “I can definitely oblige, slut, you won’t forget this. You’ll be feeling me for weeks.”

Brock gripped Peter’s jeans and boxers and yanked them down to his ankles. He then grabbed Peter’s shirt, pulling it over Peter’s head, not even bothering to pull it off completely, leaving it wrapped around his wrists. Peter cried out as he felt his body be exposed. He could hear a buckle be undone and a belt hit the floor. He whimpered as he heard the fly of Brocks jeans and the sound of them being dropped. 

“Please… don’t do this. I’m sorry, I’m really sorry,” Peter pleaded. 

“It’s too late for apologies, slut.” 

Brock grabbed the lube from his bedside table and covered his cock a little before lining himself up with Peter’s hole. Sure, he wanted Peter to suffer, but he wasn’t looking for any self-inflicted pain going in dry. Peter screamed as Brock slammed in to the hilt, splitting him open. Brock didn’t give Peter any time to adjust as he set his brutal pace. 

“Look at you, little cock sleeve, taking my cock so well.” Brock gripped Peter’s hips and dragged him back onto his cock with everything he had. Peter screamed with every thrust, begging Brock to stop, his voice getting more hoarse as time wore on. “Fucking slut, can you hear yourself, screaming for more. You want this cock, I bet you want everyone’s cock.” 

Peter sobbed, the pain too much for him. He tried to check out and just let it happen but he could feel the lube start to dry out. He could feel his ass start to tear, feeling every painful inch of the man splitting him open. The pain was all he could think of. His tears soaked the bedspread as he pressed his face down, muffling his own cries. No one was coming to help him, and he didn’t want Brock to have the enjoyment of hearing him anymore.

“Maybe I should tie you down and invite everyone else up here. I’m sure they’d all love your tight little ass. Fill you up with load after load of cum, dripping out of you.” 

Peter whimpered at the thought. This was bad enough. He didn’t want anybody else to touch him. He just wanted this to be over. He wanted to go home. Brock’s thrusts soon lost their rhythm, becoming more erratic. He let go of Peter’s hips with one hand and buried his fingers in Peter’s curls, tugging painfully, arching Peter’s back uncomfortably. He used his grip as leverage as he pounded Peter, the snap of his hips surely leaving bruises. 

Brock leaned forward and wrapped his other hand around Peter’s throat, pulling his body up off the bed, squeezing tightly. He thrust a couple more times before he came deep inside Peter, clamping his teeth into Peter’s shoulder, releasing one last pained cry from the kid. 

Brock held Peter where he was, riding out his orgasm with shallow thrusts. Peter struggled for breath as Brock’s vice-like grip blocked his windpipe. He clawed at Brock’s hand, begging to be let go. Brock laughed and released him, tossing Peter back onto the bed like a used toy. Peter lay there still, blood and cum dribbling out of his abused hole.

Brock crossed his room, wiping himself clean with some tissues before pulling his jeans back on. 

“Clean yourself up, slut, and get out of here. You got what you wanted,” Brock said, rummaging through his drawers for a clean shirt to put on. He opened the door and laughed when he heard Peter sob. “Bathrooms at the end of the hall. Make sure you shut the door on the way out.”

Brock left and slammed the door behind him. Peter placed his hands on the bed and tried to push himself up on shaky arms. He hobbled his way over to where the tissues were, cringing as he threw the bloody cum covered mess in the wastebasket. Once he was sure he was clean enough, he pulled up his pants and limped out of the room. 

A couple were outside heavily making out, and they stopped and stared as Peter emerged from the room. Peter ducked his head and staggered to the bathroom. He shut the door and locked it, turning to look at himself in the mirror. His lip was cut and he could see the beginning of a bruise on his cheek. His eyes were red as the tears continued to fall. Every part of his body ached and he just wanted to get out of there. 

Peter washed his face as best as he could and checked his reflection once more before he steeled his expression and unlocked the door. He struggled down the stairs, limping and weaving his way through people, and headed straight for the door. He cast one last look over the party and his eyes immediately locked onto the ones he didn’t want to see. 

Brock smirked and gave Peter a wink before turning and heading out to the backyard. Peter ran as best he could. He ran through the pain, staggering with the booze still in his system. He eventually reached his dorm room and opened the door slowly. When he realised his roommate was out, he closed the door and slid down to the floor, painful sobs wracking his body as his mind replayed his night to him. 

Brock was right, he wasn’t going to forget this.


End file.
